


I - Exodus

by Lost_Light



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Light/pseuds/Lost_Light
Summary: A Hunter in the Cosmodrome must make a decision when she saves a group desperate to flee Earth, even if it means facing the Darkness.





	I - Exodus

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of the #Destcember2020 drawing & writing challenge based on #Destiny universe.
> 
> Thank you for reading.

**Exodus Gold, Cosmodrome Outskirts, Old Russia**

“Nice set up.” Inaya said, her eye scanning the valley. “No wonder the Fallen are interested in it.”

A Skiff swept low of the distant bluff, following the line of the terrain as it sloped downwards into the crags of the valley. One one side was their goal, leaning drunkenly against its launch supports the three globes of an old colony ship; the Exodus Gold.

Most of the old Exodus ships had been picked clean by the Fallen already, but Gold was far out enough that it had escaped the attention of the Fallen, and Shaw Han’s patrols. That had probably made it seem like an attractive proposition for the figures scrambling around its base.

They were not Fallen. They were Human, and they were hopelessly outmatched.

“I assume we’re going down there?” Inaya asked. 

The Ghost bobbed as she turned in the air toward her Guardian. She wasn’t at all surprised to see her already straddling her still constructing Sparrow, Cloak billowing in the wind. Inaya went to join her, disappearing into her cloak.

The engine whined as she gunned the throttle, surging off the cliff. The ground rushed towards them, the engine squealing under the strain as it buoyed the Sparrow on thin air. The Hunter atop it shifting her weight to send it cresting over the bow wave of resistance that built up around the prow of the bike and they were away. 

Stones and plumes of Spinmetal swept by, then a stream which disappeared behind them in a wall of spray. The skiff was dead ahead, the Exodus Gold off to their left and both were growing quickly. There was a final rise and there they were.

The Humans were hiding behind crates and rocks, their weapons chattering loudly. They outnumbered the Fallen but they didn’t have the look of soldiers. For their part the Fallen were advancing aggressively, the Skiff bombarding the defenders, driving them into cover.

“Time to go to work.” The Hunter grunted.

She jinked the Sparrow as the first Fallen spotted her; diving out of the way as she skidded past them sideways. Her submachine gun was already out as she stepped from the saddle, letting the Sparrow skid on without her. The Dregs erupted in plumes of Ether as she fired, scattering away from her and diving for cover.

“Is that it?” Inaya asked.

A growl from their blind side answered her. There was a shimmer and the Hunter wheeled toward it, weapon rising in her hands. She didn’t get chance to fire. It intercepted the blade angled toward her chest and turned it away, knocking her weapon from her hand as it did. She jumped back from the follow up swing, the air parting around the edge of the blade as the Marauder’s cloak fell away.

“Sword!” Inaya shouted.

“No time!” The Hunter barked as the Marauder jumped toward them.

Their blade glinted wickedly in the dim light of the Cosmodrome and there was the sound of scraping metal. The Marauder grinned triumphantly then frozen, quartet of eyes looking down at where they seemed certain their blade had struck home. The edge had struck something like metal, but that glowed like fire. No, like the sun. A knife of Solar light as solid as any real one.

“Not bad.” The Hunter said, cocking her head to the side. “Let’s end this.”

The Marauder broke away, pirouetting backwards, blade swung in a wide arc in case she tried to strike at them. The Hunter let them regain their footing, the knife of light burning in her hand. A moment passed between them, a long deep breath, and the the Marauder charged. 

The Hunter held her ground, hurling the blade directly at the Fallen. A slow throw, arching toward them. They swung their blade and deflected it easily. Too easily. They barely had time to see the second knife before it struck home, sundering their helmet in a burst of pressurized Ether.

“Sorry friend.” The Hunter sighed.

The Humans were busy packing what remained of their gear when the Hunter stepped into the clearing around the base of the Exodus Gold. From its foot the ship seemed so massive as to be teetering into the sky, always falling but going nowhere. As she stepped toward them, she saw a woman in a flight suit stepping out to meet her. She was armed, an old autorifle rested heavily in her arms. Her compatriots were looking to her, unslinging their own weapons. 

Not the kind of reception the Hunter might have hoped for.

Carefully she took her hands from her weapon, showing her palms to the gathering before reaching up and drawing back her hood. She removed her mask, running her fingers through the red mohawk sat atop her blue, shaved head and flashed her most winning smile at their leader.

“We won’t go back.” The woman in the flight suit said.

“Commander Zavala has grounded all outbound flights.” The Hunter said, gesturing to the mark on the woman where a patch had been hastily cut away. “And Arach Jalaal accepted.”

“Jalaal doesn’t speak for all of us.”

“Who does speak for you?”

“I do.” The woman said, shifting the weight of the responsibility from one foot to the next. “Eyla Pren.”

“Ruan Pol.” The Hunter said, pressing her palm flat on her chest. “My friends call me Roo.”

Pren looked at her hair and nodded. “So what happens now?”

Roo shrugged and took a step back, looking up at the Exodus Gold. She was a bit big for her tastes, but there was no denying the Golden Age derelicts were a thing to behold, even corroded by age and patched up by Dead Orbit technicians.

“That depends on you.” Roo sighed. “What was the plan? Patch up an old colony ship and skip Earth for the far system?”

“Something like that.” Pren said.

Roo shook her head. “Darkness owns the system now, you’d not make the Reef. Vanguard are all tied up on defensive operations so probably you’d not even get that far.”

“As opposed to what?” Pren said. “Sit beneath the Traveler and…”

Roo looked around at the group. They were lean with fatigue and worry. Their guns were half up, unsure of what to do. They weren’t ready to fight her. All she had to do was call in the Vanguard recovery team.

“Please.” Pren said, stepping closer to her, voice lowered so the others couldn’t hear. “I can’t sit behind the walls. I can’t just wait for something to happen.”

“You know the odds.” Roo hissed.

“Do you know they’re better if we stay?”

Roo held her gaze for a long moment. In Pren’s eyes were all of her doubts reflected. She saw the Traveler floating whole over The Last City and felt no joy in it. She saw the emptiness where Mars had been and knew the regret of the Guardians she’d left behind on the Red Planet. Zavala’s orders were clear, she knew what she had to do.

Over the Cosmodrome for the first time in centuries a column of smoke rose. Crowned in flame it ascended, the thunder of take off sending the crows of the Mothyards scattering into the pale sky. From the ruins of the old highway Roo watched them go, sillouetted against the last light of the day.


End file.
